


if not tonight, maybe tomorrow

by desitonystark



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Bisexual Danny "Danno" Williams, Bisexual Steve McGarrett, Episode Tag, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Episode: s09e01 Ka Owili Oka'i (Cocoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desitonystark/pseuds/desitonystark
Summary: When Danny said that Steve needed to go out on a date, he didn’t exactly mean with him.(set after s9.01)
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 16
Kudos: 181





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Lovestruck by the Vamps

Danny’s just about to pull the covers over his legs when there’s a knock at the door. He fumbles around for his phone, blinking at the bright screen blearily to check the time. _11.00pm._ Hopefully whoever it is will assume that he’s asleep, like normal people are at this time. He closes his eyes, settling more firmly into the bed, when there’s another knock, more insistent this time.

“Fuck’s sake,” he murmers, flipping the covers back and slipping into his toasties. He debates grabbing a tee to throw over himself before deciding that whoever it is interrupted his sleep, so they’re just going to have to deal with him being shirtless. It’s a small price to pay.

He’s just exiting his bedroom when there’s a third knock, harsher and louder. ‘I’m coming I’m coming!” he calls, turning the knob and –

Steve’s standing outside, shuffling on his feet.

“Steve?” Danny feels around for his gun almost instinctively, but it’s still on his bedside table. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve shifts, and abruptly, Danny realises that this is what Steve’s like when he’s _nervous._ He wants a camera to commemorate the moment, keep it for his memories. “You uhh, you kept bugging me to go on a date, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m going on a date.”

“That’s great babe,” he smiles, “I’m proud of you. You didn’t have to drive all the way out here to tell me though, could’ve just saved the story for tomorrow. Unless,” he narrows his eyes, “you don’t want the Camaro do you? Because Steven I am telling you cannot use my car to pick up chicks. In fact I expressly forbid you –“

“Danny I don’t want the Camaro,” Steve talks over him.

“Okay,” he says, nonplussed, “then why’re you here?”

“For my date,” Steve repeats, and Danny’s going to ring his neck because he’s being so obtuse. He tilts his head, trying to look past Steve to see if there’s anybody waiting behind him, before looking behind him like there’s a pretty brunette sitting on his couch that he missed somehow, “Babe there’s nobody here.”

“Yes, there is,” Steve’s lips stretch into a smile that Danny’s come to recognise as one that generally means trouble for him, “You’re here. You’re my date Danno. You kept annoying me about going on a date, so I decided I will. I’m taking you out on a date.”

Danny looks at Steve. Like really looks at him. He catalogues the nice shoes, the distinctive lack of cargo pants, the fitted shirt, one hand behind his back –

“Are those flowers?” he asks, peering over Steve’s shoulder like he can somehow see, “Did you get me flowers?”

Steve thrusts his hands forward like he forgot he had a bouquet, and sure enough, he’s clutching flowers. They’re roses, and Danny can admit that they’re nice, even if they are a bit cliché.

“Back up a minute, what do you mean you’re taking me out on a date? Steven, when I said that I wanted you to date, I meant with someone you’re attracted to. Someone that you like, someone that you can, you know,” he gestures vaguely.

“I like you Danno,” Steve furrows his brows, “ ‘course I like you. You’re my partner. You think I would put up with all your bickering if I didn’t like you?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it. When I said you should be going on dates, I meant with someone you could fuck. I didn’t mean ‘ _have a nice meal with a stranger and then rub one out on your own’._ I meant a nice lady who would treat you right and get you back in the game, so to speak.”

Steve cocks his head, and dimly, Danny wonders if he learnt that from Eddie, “I thought you said you were bisexual. Are you saying I’m not good looking enough for you Danny?’

“That is not!” Danny’s going to shoot him and there’s not a court in the world that would convict him, “You’re plenty attractive babe, I’ve told you this before. The point is not that I’m bisexual. It’s that you should be going out on dates with someone that _you_ are attracted to.” He jabs at Steve’s chest, “the operative word here being _you.”_

“Who said I’m not attracted to you?”

Danny throws up his hands, “There is so much here to unpack that I don’t even want to _touch_ this with a ten-foot pole. You want to go on a date? Fine, let’s go on a date. Just give me a second too,” he gestures at his bare chest, “change into something nice.”

Steve looks him up and down appreciatively and Danny resists the urge to shiver. He doesn’t know what game Steve’s playing, but he’s definitely going all out to sell it. “I think you look fine just the way you are.” He bends as if looking behind Danny, “those sweatpants don’t do your ass justice though. Maybe wear the jeans from a couple weeks ago.”

Danny opens his mouth and closes it several times, because he’s aware that he should say _something_ , but nothing is coming to mind. It doesn’t help that Steve is grinning at him, smug and almost cat-like.

“I’m going to,” he stumbles backwards, “put these in water and freshen up. Come in, make yourself at home, don’t break anything while you’re here.”

“What could I possibly break?” Steve yells and Danny tilts his head to yell back, “I don’t know! It’s you! Anything’s possible!”

When he re-enters his bedroom, his covers are still splayed out; and in the confusion of Steve asking him out on a _date_ \- _though_ – Danny thinks as he fixes the covers – _he didn’t so much ask as he did just show up and say that we were going out._

Either way, Danny’s standing outside his wardrobe, doors flung open, and he wonders if this is how girls feel because he has the urge to whine that he has absolutely nothing to _wear._

It’s true though. His closet is chock-full of shirts that Steve’s already seen him because the last time that Danny went out on a date was with Melissa, and by that time they weren’t so much dating as they were just existing in each other’s space, so what he wore wasn’t very important because it didn’t stay on for particularly long.

The last time he actually remembers dressing to impress was the night he was proposing to Rachel, which feels like an entire lifetime ago.

_Maybe the jeans from a couple weeks ago,_ Steve had said, and it says something about how well he knows the putz that Danny knows exactly what pair he’s talking about because the perp de jour had actually had the gall to whistle to him when Danny walked in front of him, and Steve had responded by kneeing him in the crotch. ‘Course, Danny never got any concrete confirmation on the events that transpired because when he turned back to see why the perp had just cried out in pain; Steve blinked at him innocently and it wasn’t like he was going to get a straight answer out of the guy Steve assaulted; but Danny is reasonably certain about what happened.

“Are you ready?” Steve yells from the living room, bringing Danny out of his thoughts and back into reality, and he rummages for the jeans. “Give me two!” he calls back and grabs the closest available shirt and throws it on.

It’s a light grey piece, and there’s a good chance that Steve will recognise it from a couple of days ago, but then again, Steve has absolutely no eye for fashion – so Danny thinks he can get away with it.

He rubs at his cheek with a grimace, because his five o-clock shadow is veering dangerously into depressed hippie terrority, but there’s no time to shave – so instead he just takes a swig of mouthwash and swashes it around his mouth a couple times before spitting it out.

He doesn’t know whether Steve meant what he said when he said he was attracted to Danny, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Besides, it’s just good manners to have good breath on a date.

When he steps back out, he finds that Steve staring at him, apparently looking at his bedroom door like it would make Danny materialise any faster.

“You look good,” Steve says in a soft voice, and Danny resolutely ignores the tug inside his stomach, “thank you. I’m sorry for making you wait; I just wasn’t expecting to be wined and dined tonight. Was thinking more on the lines of a slow night.”

“You take forever to get ready; I bring you flowers, now I gotta wine and dine you,” Steve opens the door to let him out, “I have to say, you’re setting a dangerous precedent for this relationship Danno. People might start assuming things.”

He steers far away from _relationship_ and instead frowns at Steve, “Are you trying to imply that I’m the girl in this scenario babe? Is that where this is going? Because I can assure you babe, this is all american male. I can even prove it to you later if this date you’ve got planned goes well.”

Steve turns to him with hooded eyes, “Is that a promise?”

With supreme effort, Danny manages to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. _Smooth dog,_ his Navy buddies used to call him. He sort of gets it now.

“Yeah, it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this should tentatively have three parts, but that might change, depending on how many people are interested. the rating is also subject to change - but im still planning everything out, so just keep a lookout for that!!
> 
> Edit [12.09.2020]: this fic is now finished, since i felt like two parts were enough
> 
> Edit [02.02.2021]: i completely forgot that Danny actually has a scene in the show when he opens up the door shirtless so here's a [visual aid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwtuodFZ0lo&list=WL&index=44)


	2. Chapter 2

They take Steve’s truck, which, even though it isn’t exactly Danny’s idea of a normal vehicle for anyone who doesn’t work on a ranch or a farm, is still appreciated because it means that Steve wasn’t lying about wanting the Camaro.

Besides, Steve would never let him live it down if Danny admitted that he sometimes, maybe, occasionally did like it when Steve drove his car.

(He has a bum knee; he should be forgiven)

“So, do I get to know where we’re going?” Danny asks, “because I just want to know what I’m getting myself into. You know, mentally prepare myself.”

Steve sends him a withering look, “I’m taking you out on a date Danno, not a shoot-out.”

He bites his top lip and juts his chin out, “I don’t know I mean, for you Steven, a good time is getting a bit creative with a grenade and free falling from a plane. So, it is in fact very possible, that you are taking me to a shoot-out, because that is your idea of a first date. Remind me again what happened on your first date with Lynn?”

Steve’s brows furrow, and Danny has the oddest urge to reach out and smoothen his thumb over them. He doesn’t, but the urge is still there.

“I’m not taking you out on a shoot-out, Danny,” Steve promises, “and I don’t have any extra grenades. Just the normal amount.”

“The normal amount?! What is that supposed to mean? Because you see where I’m from, the _normal amount_ means zero because we don’t carry out grenades regularly. Besides, where are you stashing said grenades? These aren’t your cargo pants these only have…”

Danny trails off when they turn the corner onto a familiar street, “Steven, are you taking me to our restaurant?”

Steve grins, “I thought it’d be cute. Our first date in the place we’re building together.”

“No, what it is - is free. I can’t believe you; you can’t even shell out for a first date. Unbelievable.”

Steve reverses into a parking spot across the street from the restaurant (which Danny refuses to call Steve’s, even in the privacy of his mind), because there’s still a construction truck parked outside. Before Danny can so much as unbuckle his seatbelt, Steve is near his door, opening it and offering his hand for Danny to hold.

“I’m really not liking this whole motif of you being the guy and me being the girl,” Danny sniffs, but still accepts Steve’s hand, “seems unnecessarily backwards.”

“I’m just trying to treat you right Danno,” Steve pouts, “If you’d like - you can plan the next one. Pull out all the stops.”

_The next one,_ the words clench around his throat.

“The next one huh?” his tongue feels unusually heavy in his mouth, “you sound very certain of yourself Smooth Dog.”

Steve’s cheeks heat, and he rubs the back of his neck, “just cautiously optimistic. You should try it sometime.”

“What? Being optimistic? I’ll have you know I’m plenty optimistic. I believe in our restaurant don’t I? That’s all the optimism you get out of me.”

At some point, Steve has opened the door for Danny, and he hasn’t even noticed, but he _does_ notice the interior, stuttering to a stop. The entire restaurant is transformed, looking nothing like the usual mess of rubble and loose cable that Danny’s come to associate with their very expensive venture.

It isn’t done by any means, but it’s completely cleaned out, save for a single table in the centre of the room. 

“This is,” Danny starts, and then stops, “This is beautiful Steve. I love it.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle, and his shoulders loosen ever so slightly, as if he was worried that Danny might not like it. The goof. As if Danny would complain about anything that Steve does.

Okay, so he would complain, but he rarely ever means it. He thought Steve knew that by now.

“I asked Kamekona to help me set it out,” Steve says, placing a hand on the small of Danny’s back and leading him to the table, “spruce the place up a bit. Now, I know we said that the menu was going to be your stuff, but tonight’s menu is a bit different?”

“You cooked?” Danny asks with a raised eyebrow, “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“You didn’t know I was attracted to you either,” Steve says with a wry tone, and there’s that familiar squeeze in Danny’s chest, “Apparently tonight is full of you learning new things about me.”

Danny opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off by the sounds of the kitchen door opening. Nahele steps out, clad in a formal shirt and cargo shorts that clash so badly that Danny almost feels bad for the kid. He’s got a table draped around one of his arms, a closed platter in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“You got Nahele to wait?” Danny hisses, as he gets closer, but Steve is saved from replying by Nahele stepping up smoothly.

“Good evening sirs,” he says, “I trust you found the place well?”

Danny has died and gone to some sort of alternate reality. That is the only plausible explanation for tonight.

“We did,” Steve says seriously, “Wasn’t too hard.”

“That’s amazing. Welcome to Steve’s, Oahu’s premiere Italian restaurant. For tonight’s meal, may I interest you in the wine du jour?” Nahele proffers the wine bottle, presumably for both Steve and Danny to look over the label, “before you say no - allow me to also inform you that it is also the only wine we have handy.”

Danny chuckles despite himself, “This is - you really went all out huh?”

Steve places his hand over Danny’s, calloused thumb rubbing against the back of his palm and sending tingles up his arm, “Of course I did. I only get to wine and dine you once. Had to make sure I made an impression.”

Danny’s jaw goes slack, and it feels like the pieces are finally fitting together, “You’re serious about this. About taking me out, about being attracted to me, about wanting to be in a relationship with me.”

“Of course, I am Danno. Did you think I was lying about this? That I would do all of this to toy with you?”

“No babe I didn’t I just, I don’t know you’ve never shown any inclination that you might be interested in something like this Steve. I guess it’s taking me a minute to get that you’re serious about all of this.”

Steve juts his chin out, and it looks so much like the expression that Danny’s seen in the mirror that it jars him for a second, “It’s not like you said anything either.”

Danny lifts his hand in mock surrender, “you’re an ex- Navy SEAL babe. I didn’t want to risk it. Besides, I told you that I was bisexual our second week of working together. As far as I’m concerned, the ball was in your court after that.”

“Well,” Steve says determinedly, “this is me making a move.”

“Yeah,” Danny replies, fondly, unable to keep a smile off his face, “Yeah I guess it is.”

At some point, Nahele’s slipped out to grab their food, and he shows up a couple seconds later to place it on the table. It’s some sort of salmon dish, and even though Danny bitches up and down about the ridiculous amount of seafood on this island, he somehow can’t find it in him to be upset this time.

Not when he knows that Steve cooked this for them, for _him._

“To finally making a move,” Steve raises his glass to Danny clink, and Danny obliges, “Sap.”

“Only for you.”

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, dinner isn’t awkward. Danny expected it to be, especially after his realisation that this was in fact an honest to god date and not some elaborate prank that Steve had come up with; but it’s like a normal meal between them.

Of course, generally Steve isn't trailing his leg up and down the underside of Danny’s leg, but he supposes that some things had to change.

“I’m sorry about Greer,” he says, when the conversation hits a lull, “I know you trusted her. I will say though, this is becoming something of a pattern for you.”

“What is?” Steve says around a sip of wine.

“People from your past life showing up and betraying you. I’m starting to think you are a shockingly bad judge of character, but then again, you picked me, so you can’t be all that bad?”

Steve winks at him, and Danny resolutely tries not to blush. Italian skin was not conducive to blushing. 

“I just wish I knew why she’d done it,” Steve says in a more sombre tone, “I’m not saying she was perfect - the way I met her is proof of that. But I always thought she understood what we did, _why_ we did what we did. Guess she lost that somewhere. She told me that there was a mole in the Agency, much before everything went down. Guess she just declined to mention that she was the mole.”

“Yeah well,” Danny shrugs, “I never liked her. Bit too flirty for my tastes.”

“You were jealous,” Steve’s eyes widen, and Danny regrets everything in this life that led up to this moment, “oh my god, you were - weren’t you?”

“I was maybe, possibly, slightly, the tiniest bit jealous,” he gestures with his fingers, pinching them together, “but only that much.”

“Then why did you push me to hook up with her that much? You spent the entire car-ride telling me to ask her out because I had to, what were your words, _get back on the horse._ ”

Danny shrugs, “I don’t know I guess it was easier if you hooked up with her if I told you, instead of like, you being interested. It’s stupid, but it made sense at the time.”

“Would you have?” Danny asks suddenly, “If she hadn’t turned out to be a double agent? Would you have hooked up with her after the case wrapped up?”

“No,” Steve says definitively, “what me and Greer had, it was good. But it was over a long time ago. She spent a very long time trying to recruit me to the Agency. Whether that was because someone higher up the food-chain put her up to it or because she wanted to work alongside me, I don’t know, but after a point - it felt like she was sleeping with me to convince me what I was missing out on by not going on covert missions with her. Its soured things between us, and I wouldn’t have wanted to start up that cycle again.”

“You would’ve made a terrible spy,” Danny chortles, “you’re like a bull-dozer. Stealth is not your thing.”

“I’m a Navy SEAL,” Steve puffs out his chest, though Danny is sure it’s more for show that anything else, “I can be stealthy if I want to.”

“Sure babe,” Danny says, and Steve neglects to argue his point further, instead waving at Nahele to bring in dessert.

“You made coco puffs?” Danny asks in an impressed tone, “babe I’m impressed. I didn’t know you knew how to make coco puffs.”

“They’re from Liliha’s,” Steve explains, and there’s a line of chocolate across his chin that Danny wants to lick off, “but I appreciate you thinking that I can make coco puffs this good.”

Danny finishes his in-record time and makes grabby hands for Steve’s when he drags it out - moaning and groaning and making Danny’s jeans extremely uncomfortable.

“You neanderthal,” he reaches out and thumbs the chocolate off the corner of Steve’s mouth, sucking it into his mouth. He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s eyes track the movement, constricting at the way his throat flexes, “did they not teach you how to eat in the Army? You’re an animal.”

“Navy,” Steve says, his voice muffled by the coco puffs, “I’ve brought it up twice tonight alone. I know you know it was the Navy.”

“I do,” Danny admits, “but your ears get red when I say Army. It’s too much fun to pass up.”

The ride back to Danny’s place is simultaneously exactly like the ride to the restaurant, and nothing like it at all. 

Danny is on edge, keyed up with anticipation and a flutter of nerves, but it’s different this time. It’s not nerves about what he and Steve are doing, but rather, what they’re _going_ to do. It was a good first date, possibly one of the best that Danny’s ever had - but between the footsie, Steve’s moans and his exaggerated licking, Danny’s more than a bit wound up.

His hand reaches out almost on instinct, and lands on Steve’s thigh, high enough that he could stick a finger out and run it against Steve’s cock. Steve shifts, but doesn’t make a move to take Danny’s hand off, which Danny takes as tactic permission to lightly run his fingers along Steve’s inner thigh; feeling the way he shifts and flexes under him.

It’s heady, even though Danny barely has any of Steve under him, and he almost misses Steve pulling off the road and parking in the corner.

“What are you doing? We’re nowhere close to my house -”

There’s lips on his lips. There’s _Steve’s_ lips on his lips, and Danny’s hand leaves his thigh to tangle inside Steve’s hair, the other fumbling to let him out of his seatbelt. He’s half straddling Steve’s thigh and half in his seat, the gear digging into his back uncomfortably, but Danny can’t care - because Steve is licking into his mouth like it’s a mission, using his tongue to map and memorize the inside of Danny’s cheeks.

“You said -” Steve breaks off with a pant, “you said if I play my cards right, that you’d prove to me that you were all american male.”

A hand snakes down between them and cups Danny’s dick in his jeans, punctuating Steve’s words and making Danny buck.

Danny opens his eyes to see Steve’s pupils blown back, and almost involuntarily, he licks his lips.

“Did I?” Steve’s voice is coming out in short breaths, “Did I play my cards right?”

Danny doesn’t answer, he just pulls Steve back in for another kiss.

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the rating,,,might change in the next chapter 👀
> 
> Edit [12.09.2020]: this fic is now finished, since i felt like two parts were enough

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm also on tumblr](https://danny-williams.tumblr.com)   
> 


End file.
